


tell me if you feel this pain (wash the blood from both our hands)

by OsleyaKomWonkru



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, BAMF Octavia Blake, Bellamy Learns Hard Truths, Blake Sibling Strife, Episode: s06e03 The Children of Gabriel, Fix-It of Sorts, Forgiveness, Gen, Graphic Depictions of Torture, Octavia Is A Phoenix Not A Scapegoat, POV Bellamy Blake, POV Octavia Blake, Peace and Healing, People Are Not Their Best Selves, Sibling Rivalry, Sibling Violence, Which leads to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22072783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OsleyaKomWonkru/pseuds/OsleyaKomWonkru
Summary: Shock collared by her brother and brought back to Sanctum instead of exiled, Octavia is emotionally devastated and sees no way out of her pain. So when the Primes demand the sacrifice of one of Earthkru to their ritual of blood atonement, a statement of proof that they are committed to living without any further violence, she's quick to volunteer.Perhaps if her brother didn’t believe the sincerity of her actions in life, he would with her death.However, after Simone and Russell experience Octavia’s memories in preparation for the ritual, they change the rules of the game - no longer her people’s scapegoat, Octavia has a new mission: to shine a light in the dark places of their souls to teach them an important lesson about judgment, empathy and sacrifice.She just has to play a dangerous battle of wills with her brother in order to do it.(6x03 canon-divergent; "Explicit" tag is for extremely graphic violence, there is no smut.)
Relationships: Bellamy Blake & Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake & Octavia Blake, Bellamy Blake/Echo, Emori/John Murphy (The 100), Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller, John Murphy & Raven Reyes, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Octavia Blake & Abby Griffin, Octavia Blake & Simone Lightbourne, Octavia Blake/Niylah
Comments: 34
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Remember what I said in the summary of [give us life again (with chances taken and hope embraced)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22036501) about much much heavier fic subjects to come? Yeah, this is that story.
> 
> Somehow the idea for this story came when listening to the song "Mhysa" from Game of Thrones, which I haven't watched, but music gives inspiration anyways. It gave me the idea of Octavia Triumphant, rising from the ashes of her pain to teach her people a lesson about judgment and sacrifice and unafraid to risk her own life to do so. And then this fic was born. It is completed and I'll post one chapter per day.
> 
>  **Warning:** This fic contains **extremely graphic** depictions of torture. Many characters are not their best selves. That's the point, this is where they learn that they haven't been their best selves in quite some time. This is where they learn that they can't judge Octavia the way they have been. But it is an extremely painful lesson, for Octavia physically and for other characters emotionally/mentally, so be warned.
> 
> Title is modified from "Hanging On" and "Mirror" by Ellie Goulding.

Enemies dealt with, Octavia let her blood simmer down, her mind clearing after the adrenaline of a fight. Diyoza was yelling something at her, but she wasn’t paying attention. All she focused on were the prone bodies of Madi and Gaia in the entrance of the ship.

Octavia ran up the ramp to Madi, relieved when she saw the girl’s eyes open and moving, though that was all. She had to get her to safety, heard Bellamy and Diyoza say something about paralytic darts. Heard Bellamy yelling at her again, _still,_ but ignored him. She lifted Madi up and carried her deeper into the ship, keeping a watchful eye out for any further enemies, but the ship was clear.

Making it to the control room, Octavia placed Madi into one of the seats, about to snap her in when she saw a flurry of movement out of the corner of her eye coming for them. She dove between the intruder and Madi, ready to take them out, when she realized it was Bellamy. She pulled her punch to avoid striking him, but his momentum didn’t stop and Octavia spotted what was in his hand too late.

The shock collar snapped around her neck, and Bellamy stepped back, moving towards the control desk. Octavia tracked his movements with her eyes and she saw a controller sitting there that was probably the trigger for the collar she was now wearing.

“What the hell, Bell?” Octavia snapped.

“Get away from her.”

“What?”

Bellamy’s hand curled around the trigger of the controller. “Get away from Madi. I won’t let you hurt her.”

“Hurt her? _What?”_ Octavia was confused. “Why the hell would I do something like that? I’m keeping her safe.”

“Like hell you are.”

“I fought to keep her safe. All of them. And now I want to strap her in so that when we take off, she’ll be all right. What’s wrong with that?”

“You didn’t have to kill them.”

“The people in Sanctum told us these people were a dangerous threat. That they want the people inside the shield dead. They had weapons, paralyzed potential hostages. You think I should have just let them take them? I don’t think so. I’m not going to risk the lives of our people like that.”

“You’re not in charge here.”

“No, I’m not. But I get the job done. I do what I have to do to protect my people. Once upon a time you understood that.” Octavia turned away from him, ready to resume her task of strapping Madi in for the ride, when she felt electricity coursing through her body, muscles going rigid as she collapsed to the floor, limbs twitching.

“What the hell, Bellamy?” Octavia heard Raven yell, mind still foggy from the shock as she became aware of the others coming into the control room.

“I couldn’t let her hurt Madi.”

“She wasn’t trying to hurt me.” Madi’s words were slurred, mouth still mostly paralyzed, but the daggers she was staring at Bellamy were clear.

“Have you ever felt the shock of those collars?” Raven was furious, storming right up to Bellamy and pushing him back, yanking the controller out of his hand as Octavia struggled to sit up. “Do you know what it’s like? Do you? How _dare_ you do that to your sister!”

Echo helped Octavia stand, taking her to the jumpseat furthest away from Bellamy. She didn’t say anything, but Octavia appreciated the tacit support, even if it came from someone who she’d once considered an enemy. She didn’t know how to feel about Echo now.

Echo and Diyoza finished strapping Gaia and Madi in for the ride, though the latter were beginning to slowly regain their movement. Her rant at Bellamy finished, Raven glared at him until he took a seat away from Octavia and she took them into the air, headed into Sanctum.

* * *

Ship landed safely in Sanctum, Octavia stormed off of it, not engaging with the others around her. She could tell that Madi wanted to talk to her, but Bellamy kept stepping in, keeping the younger girl from approaching.

It was just as well. She knew whatever she’d say would be misinterpreted by her brother. Give him more ammunition to use against her, more fodder for the fire he was building around an effigy of what he thought she was, ready to burn her down, though he knew nothing. Nothing of her life in the bunker, nothing of why she was so angry now. Just nothing.

Part of her wished that Diyoza hadn’t stopped that last fighter. If she’d died with them, then she could be at peace. Then maybe her brother would have understood. At very least, she wouldn’t have to watch the constant anger and disappointment on his face whenever he looked at her.

They arrived back in the tavern to meet up with the rest of the survivors from Earth. Clarke smiled at her briefly, mouthing a “thank you” as she reunited with Madi. The others paid her no mind as she made her way to a corner where she could sit by herself.

The Primes entered the room, ready to address everyone. From the whispers, Octavia knew they’d had their own drama here while they’d been away. Kidnappings by the same people who had attacked the transport ship. Clarke had prevented one of them, saving Delilah, the tavern girl.

The one named Russell stepped forward to speak.

“Good news. We will let you stay here in Sanctum with us, and we will teach you everything that we know about survival here, and help you begin building your own home. But in return we need a commitment from you. Tomorrow was due to be Naming Day - a sacred rite in our community, a ritual of renewal, repentance and rebirth. In the wake of your arrival and the attacks by the Children of Gabriel, we have decided to postpone Naming Day until you’ve been settled in your new home. But we will still practice renewal, repentance and rebirth in a different ritual tomorrow.

“We know you’ve lived lives of violence. So to ensure your commitment to a new life of peace, we will require you to choose one of your number as a sacrifice for the ritual of blood atonement. Give that one person to us as penance, and the sins of all of your people will be expunged and your slates wiped clean. Your cycle of violence ends there, and you will be born again into a world of peace.”

Octavia stood up, angry expression fading away. “Choose me. I’ll do it.”

Bellamy whipped around to face her. “No. No way.”

“Why not, Bell?” Octavia asked, walking up to face him down with a look of determination. _“You_ poisoned me and watched me choke into unconsciousness as you stifled my screams. _You_ encouraged me to sacrifice myself to save you in the gorge. _You_ put this -” she tugged on the shock collar “- around my neck and _pulled the trigger._ You did all of that to your little sister. Your own flesh and blood. Am I only allowed to suffer when you choose it, is that it? Only when it is your choice? Well, sorry to inform you, _big brother,_ but you had no control over my suffering for six long years. That was out of your hands. So is this. This is _my_ decision. And maybe after this is over, after I’m dead, you’ll finally realize that every choice I’ve made, everything I’ve done, has been to save my people.”

Octavia brushed past him, crossing the space between her people and the Primes, stopping to kneel in front of Russell and Simone.

“I will bear the sins of my people.”

“What’s your name?” Russell asked.

“Octavia Blake.”

“Please stand, Octavia.”

Octavia got to her feet and the guards moved to stand next to her as she turned to face her brother and the rest of her people.

“Tomorrow at second dawn, you are requested to present yourselves at the front of the palace where the ritual will take place. Do not be late.” Russell warned the survivors of Earth. “And for goodness sake, get that collar off of her, she’s a girl, not a dog. We’re not barbarians here.”

Russell didn’t conceal his look of disgust at Bellamy as he stepped forward with the key to unlock the collar, removing it from Octavia’s neck, fresh welts visible among the barely-older bruises. Octavia stared him down the entire time, daring him to speak, but her brother said nothing, stepping back as soon as he was done.

“Tomorrow we purify Sanctum.” Russell declared. “When her suffering ends, so does the violence of your people. Or each of you will share the same fate.”

Russell and Simone swept out of the room, and the guards followed, bringing Octavia with them. They escorted her to the doors on the ground level of the palace.

“We’ll take her from here.” Russell said to the guards. “Stand your posts.”

Simone pulled out a piece of cloth, tying it across Octavia’s eyes. She heard the door open and Simone and Russell escorted her inside. She heard another set of doors open and close along the way, and when they stopped and removed the blindfold, Octavia found herself in some sort of medical room.

“What’s going on?” Octavia asked warily. “I mean, I thought…”

“That we were taking you to a prison cell?” Russell asked. “No. In order to bear the sins of your people, we need to be acquainted with what those sins are. We have heard some stories, but we need to be much better acquainted with them. We have the technology here that allows us to experience someone else’s memories, as well as chart responses to those memories in different parts of the brain, such as pain and emotion centers.”

“Experience someone’s memories.” Octavia said cautiously. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“It is the only way we can guarantee true honesty during the ritual.” Simone said. “And that honesty is important. Sins can only be released if they’re acknowledged openly.”

“Can’t you just imagine the worst and go with that?”

“That wouldn’t be fair to you or your people.” Russell said.

“It would be close enough. You don’t want to see my memories. I promise you that.”

Octavia felt a pinch in her neck, and turned to see Simone pulling away a needle, her muscles going rigid as Russell caught her.

“A temporary paralytic. It will wear off quickly.” Simone said. “I’m sorry, but we really do need to see those memories. Honesty and truth are what is necessary to be reborn.”

Russell lifted Octavia onto one of the gurneys, strapping her down and attaching a series of electrodes to her forehead. She couldn’t move, but she saw every movement, heard every noise, felt each of the things touch her and she couldn’t get away.

A tear rolled down her face, uncontrolled, terrified that now someone would have access to her innermost thoughts and feelings. Everything she’d kept masterfully hidden for years, playing her role as the ruthless leader of Wonkru, keeping her people alive. No one had ever seen the frightened girl behind the mask.

But now the enemy would.

“Computers or memories?” Russell asked Simone.

“You monitor us. I’ll view her memories.”

Simone got onto the other gurney, and Octavia watched as Russell strapped her down the same way, attaching the electrodes and connecting them up to hers somehow that was beyond her field of vision.

Russell disappeared from view for a few moments, and then returned with two needles full of some sort of fluid.

“This is to put you both into a dreamlike state where the memories will be shared.” Russell said. “We know the memories could be violent, which is why you’re both strapped down, just a precaution, so you don’t accidentally hurt yourselves.”

He injected Octavia with one of the needles, then Simone, and Octavia felt herself float away into a half-sleep, feeling peaceful for mere moments before being thrust violently into her memories.

_Her earliest memories. Needing to be quiet. Always quiet. ‘If you’re not quiet, we’re all dead’. Hiding beneath the floor, again and again and again._

_Elation at being able to get out of their room and go to the dance, turning to horror as she was arrested. Her mother floated, brother demoted, and she found herself in a new cell, marked for death for her birth._

_The ground. A reprieve from her prison in the sky. Jasper saving her from the water snake. Jasper getting speared. Jasper in pain, and she saved him from the other delinquents who wanted him dead._

_Running away from Bellamy, falling falling falling down the hill, her first glimpse of Lincoln. Locked up in his cave, escaping, being saved again from the other Grounders who were hunting them. Saving Lincoln by risking her own life when Bellamy and Raven tortured him._

The memories came faster and faster, _was this the way someone’s life flashed before their eyes when they were dying,_ she wondered. Must have been. Was it her memories that would kill her? Would she die here on this table before she even made it to the ritual that would otherwise spell her end?

_The Dark Year. People didn’t want to eat, Abby told her of the emotional cost that they’d bear if they were given a choice. How they’d tear themselves apart. The cost she bore for them to prevent that from happening, to keep them blameless, to keep them free, at the cost of her own soul._

Somehow in the maelstrom of memories, Octavia was aware of how her physical body was shaking, how Simone’s was too, tied together by these thoughts being ripped from the hidden places of her mind.

_Waking up on the Eligius IV. The feeling of abandonment, knowing her brother had left her behind, didn’t consider her worthy of the fresh start that others were. Wanting it all to end as she let Skaikru take their shots at her, almost getting it until Abby intervened. Coming to the ground, her brother’s rejection, her brother’s betrayal as he clamped that torture device around her neck, threatening her when she was only helping their people. Pain. Betrayal. Pain. Betrayal. That’s all there is, isn’t there?_

Octavia blinked her eyes open, coming back to full consciousness, able to move again, save for the restraints still holding her to the gurney. 

Now it was time for the judgment. How Simone certainly regretted taking this journey into Octavia’s memories, that she’d been right and that they should have just imagined the worst, because at least then they wouldn’t have had to experience it for themselves. Octavia was used to judgment. At least now if they’d had any apprehension about what they were going to do to her, they’d feel justified and wouldn’t feel any regrets about ending her life.

Simone gasped as she came back to herself, fingers digging into the armrests of her gurney. She turned her head to look at Octavia, who looked away, not willing to meet her eyes.

“You poor girl.” Simone whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. “Russell… we can’t do this to her. We can’t. Please believe me.”

“I’m looking at the data right now, Simone. I can see everything.”

“Then you know what I feel.”

Russell nodded, standing up from behind the computer screens, walking over to them. He loosened Simone’s restraints first, moving next to Octavia, a look of infinite sadness in his eyes.

“I don’t know what exactly my wife saw.” Russell said, squeezing Octavia’s shoulder gently. “But we’ve been perfecting our brain scanning technologies for centuries. We’ve mapped out the human brain better than any other civilization ever has. And science does not lie. You don’t deserve this.”

“She needs our help, Russell.” Simone said, unfastening her last restraint and coming around to stand opposite Russell, loosening Octavia’s restraints and removing the electrodes from her forehead. “She won’t get it from her own people.”

“I don’t understand.” Octavia said, looking at them in confusion. “You said this was supposed to show you my memories. Everything that I’ve done. All of it.”

“It did.” Simone said. “At least, I hope there isn’t more. You would’ve experienced all of the memories as I did. Did we miss anything?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then I stand by what I said.”

“How could you look at my memories and… and not… I mean, my people out there, most of them only know a sliver of what you saw. And you see how they hate me for it.”

“It is because they don’t have the full story.” Simone said, reaching out her hand to cup Octavia’s cheek. “They saw what they wanted to see. Or didn’t see what they needed to see. They don’t know what it was like for you. It’s true, you’ve lived a life of violence and you’ve taken many lives. But it haunts you. You’re not like your _Wanheda,_ who tonight, even knowing what it might cost your people with regards to your survival here, was unapologetic to the last about wiping out an entire civilization to save but a handful of her own. You’ve done terrible things at great cost to yourself to save your people. Not only their bodies but their souls as well.” She exchanged a glance with Russell. “Believe me when I say we understand. We understand what it’s like to have to make the choices for what you believe to be the last of humanity.”

Octavia’s lip trembled, and she bit down on it to make it stop. _You can’t show weakness._ But somehow the sincere expressions on Simone and Russell’s faces were enough to crack her resolve, and a single tear slipped from her eye. Simone thumbed it away.

“It’s okay, Octavia.” Simone said. “It’s going to be okay. We will come up with a new plan.”

“Are you going to kill someone else instead?”

“Kill?” Russell looked at her with confusion. “We were never going to kill you. Or anyone. This is about atonement. Suffering as a means to understanding the cost of a life full of violence. But you already know the cost. Your brain scan and Simone’s experience of your memories makes that clear.”

“It’s not a lesson she has to learn, but the others…” Simone trailed off, looking towards the door.

“What are you thinking, Simone?”

“We proceed as planned with the ritual in the morning. But ours won’t be the hands that wield it.”

“You want to test them.” Russell said slowly, realizing what Simone was proposing. “See if they’ll do it instead. See if they’ll be willing to take blood from her if they believe that will guarantee their own safety.”

“Only if you agree.” Simone said to Octavia. “If you don’t, we’ll find another way. But I don’t believe I’m wrong when I say that physical pain is inconsequential to you, given the emotional pain you carry.”

“You’re not wrong.” Octavia said.

“Will you do it?” Russell asked.

Octavia looked down, surveying her bruised knuckles, the bruises all over her forearms. All evidence of the pain she was willing to bear. She wondered about the consequences afterward, if she lived, if _they_ lived, of the fallout when they learned it was a ruse to find their breaking points, as they’d so successfully found hers.

“I don’t know.” She said honestly. “It almost feels like revenge. To have them suffer as I’ve suffered. And I… I don’t want to be that person again. I had my time when I did seek revenge against those who wronged me.”

“You killed the man who murdered your lover.” Simone said. “Some would call that justice.”

“Time was I did too. But his death didn’t make the pain go away.”

“And so you know that teaching a lesson to your people won’t make your pain go away either.” Russell said. “But if done right, it will teach them important lessons about judgment, empathy, sacrifice, and choosing the right path. Those are important lessons to learn. You can help them do that.”

“Okay.” Octavia said. “I’ll do it. On one condition.”

“What would that be?”

“Leave the child out of it. Madi. She doesn’t need to see this. She doesn’t need to be involved.”

“She’s more than just a child.” Simone said. “Your memories made that clear. She’s a host for some sort of artificial intelligence.”

“Yes, she has the Flame, but she is still a child. Having the memories of the previous Commanders in her head too doesn’t change that. I won’t have her be a part of this.”

Simone and Russell exchanged a look, one that Octavia didn’t understand. But eventually Russell nodded. “Very well. Delilah can keep the child in the tavern.”

“Thank you.”

“Take her to Josephine’s room for the night and get her something to eat.” Russell said to Simone, heading for the door. “I’ll inform the guards of the new protocols.”

Simone helped Octavia sit up, and reached for the blindfold.

“I’m sorry, but the outer chamber here is a sacred space. We can’t let you see it. I’ll take it off once we get outside.”

Octavia nodded her understanding and closed her eyes as Simone fastened the blindfold over her face, taking her hand and guiding her out of the room and through the outer chamber. Once she heard the doors close behind them, Simone removed the blindfold.

“There’s food in the great hall.” Simone said. “We’ll stop there to put a plate together for you before we go upstairs.”

“Okay.”

“You’re not much for talking.”

“Not really.”

“Octavia, I -” Simone stopped, looking around to make sure they were alone. “I know you didn’t want to share your memories with me. Your deepest thoughts, pains and trauma. I know those are private and that it was a violation of your mind to even do that. I’m truly sorry. But know that nothing that happened in that room will leave it. Russell and I won’t share anything that we learned with anyone else, not our people, not yours, unless you say that we can.”

“Thank you.”

They resumed their walk to the great hall in silence, Octavia not offering any conversation, and Simone not pushing any. The guards nodded to Simone as they entered, and Octavia couldn’t help but be amazed by the room, the intricate design of the architecture as well as the table laid out with food.

“May I make some recommendations?” Simone offered.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“That’s right, our food will be unfamiliar to you.” Simone picked up a plate and began placing a variety of items on it. “Meat or no meat?”

“No meat.”

Simone nodded with a sad smile. “I understand.”

A few more things added to the plate, Simone handed it to Octavia and directed her further into the great hall.

“We’ve got a private staircase here that leads to our quarters. Josephine’s room isn’t far.”

“Who is Josephine?”

Simone clutched the locket around her neck. “Josephine… was my daughter. She died six years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“We all have our hurts to bear.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier.”

“You’re right. But know that if you ever want to talk about any of yours, come find me. I can listen. Even when your people have built their own community and you’re no longer here with us - my door is always open. What you’ve lived through is horrific and no one should have to deal with that alone.”

“Okay.”

They emerged on the upper floor, and Simone led Octavia to a door. Simone closed her eyes as she took the handle, taking a deep breath as she slid the door open.

“I haven’t been here since Josie died.”

“We don’t have to do this. I can sleep elsewhere.”

“No.” Simone said resolutely, wiping away a tear. “I have to face it.”

“Is this her?” Octavia asked as they entered, seeing a photograph of a young blonde woman.

“Yes. I’m older than I look.” Simone whispered cryptically. “She was about your age when she died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Time heals all wounds. So we’re told.”

“I’m never sure whether I believe that.”

“Some it does. Some it doesn’t.” Simone wiped away another tear. “Now, get that food into you and get some sleep. The ritual will begin at second dawn. I’ll wake you and bring the ritual clothes before that.”

“Okay.”

Simone nodded a farewell and left the room, closing the door behind her. Octavia sat down on the bed, surveying the plate of unfamiliar food. Food dressed up in fancy shapes and with decorations that she’d never seen before, not even in books that told of the opulence of centuries past.

One by one, all of the items on her plate disappeared, not all to her taste but all better than what she’d subsisted on for… her entire life, really. Better than rations on the Ark, better than than the basic food on the ground, and certainly better than what they’d had to eat in the bunker.

Meal finished, Octavia wandered over to the window. She was tired, but full of anxiety about what the next day would bring. Wondering who would refuse. Who would acquiesce. How long it would take them to stop once they started. _If_ they would stop. If Simone or Russell would pull the plug if it was clear they wouldn’t stop.

Glancing down, she saw her brother and Echo sitting next to the pond. Echo was rubbing his back in… comfort? Support? She couldn’t be sure. The lights were on and door open on the transport ship down in the fields below, some of the group must have gone back there to sleep. Others milled about near the tavern, both people from Earth and the locals, conversing with each other.

And all around them, a lush green earth. Moon, rather. But life was possible. A new life could be real. Octavia was surprised by the empathy that Simone and Russell had given her, but it had awakened a new desire to _live_ within her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. After being alone for so long, just having someone say that they _understood_ meant everything. It gave her hope for herself that she’d lost years earlier.

Perhaps after tomorrow, her own people would understand too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the calm before the storm. Prepare for the hurricane to begin tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simone helps Octavia prepare for the ritual, and Earthkru is shocked by their expected participation as the ritual of blood atonement begins.
> 
> **Warning:** Graphic depictions of torture in this chapter.

Octavia awoke to a tap-tap-tap on the door, grunting in acknowledgment before she remembered where she was and shot up to sitting. She cleared her throat. “Come in.”

Simone came in, some clothes tucked under one arm and a small tray of food and drink in the other.

“Josie was always grumpy in the mornings too.” She said by way of greeting, putting down the tray next to Octavia. “I don’t recommend eating too much, but you should have something to keep up your strength. You’ll need it.”

Octavia started eating, leaving Simone to fill the silence, if she wished to.

“The guards tell me your brother didn’t sleep all night. He just sat by the pond, not speaking to anyone.” When Octavia didn’t say anything, she continued. “I dreamed of him last night. Of what he did to you. It is unforgivable. Yet you’ve forgiven him. You’d rather have his love than your truth.”

“Truth is meaningless if you’ve lost everything in pursuit of it.”

“I can see why you’d think that. But after today, everything will be different. Hopefully your brother will understand your truth, and given what he’s done, realize he is in no position to judge what you have.”

“Do you have a brother?”

“I did. He died a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry. What was his name?”

“Jean-Paul.”

“Your parents were existentialists.”

Simone smiled. “They were. Not many people notice that these days.”

“I’m a reader. Not much else to do when you live under the floor.”

“I imagine not.”

Octavia finished eating and set the tray aside, looking to Simone for what was to happen next.

“This dress is for you.” Simone said. “We should also pull your hair back, to keep it out of the way as much as possible. I can braid it for you, if you’d like.”

Octavia’s heart clenched and she looked down at her hands. “I…”

“Sorry, that was a bad suggestion. I know why you stopped wearing braids. Because he did them for you, didn’t he? Lincoln?”

Octavia nodded. “He did. After that… Indra braided my hair for the Conclave, but that’s the last time anyone’s done that for me.”

“Indra was your mentor, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m not teaching you the art of war, but I hope that after today I can help you learn how to live in peace.” Simone sighed. “After what I saw yesterday… your memories are a part of me now too. Knowing what I know, I can’t walk away from you the way so many others have. I know you may hate me for what I did, and for what you’re about to walk into, and you have every right to, but I hope that in time you’ll find it in your heart to forgive us.”

“I already have.” Octavia said. “I wish it could have happened without someone needing to look into my mind, but all I’ve wanted for years was someone who said that they understood. Someone who wanted peace for me, when all I’ve known is being a weapon.”

“Well that ends today. Tomorrow we have peace. I promise you that.”

“You can braid my hair.” Octavia said suddenly, looking up at Simone. “Please.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. Like you said, endings and new beginnings. Having that reminder of Lincoln to hold onto, remembering that the last time I felt hope that the world would be all right was with him… it feels right.”

Simone disappeared for a few minutes to find a hairbrush, and then returned, settling in behind Octavia to brush her hair out. That done, her fingers flew quickly through Octavia’s hair, creating braid after braid, weaving them together in an intricate pattern unlike any Octavia had had before.

“All done.” Simone smiled, directing Octavia over to a mirror.

Octavia took in her new hairstyle, both familiar and foreign at the same time. Her hair was shorter now than it had been back then, but Simone had still been able to weave a number of braids to pull her hair back from her face, and then braided the braids together as well, coming together with her loose hair at the nape of her neck.

“Thank you.” Octavia said.

“Here’s your dress.” Simone said, holding it up so Octavia could see the design. “Let me know if you need any help.”

“I should be fine.”

Octavia stepped behind a privacy screen, draping the dress over the top as she divested herself of her other clothes. She slipped the dress on carefully, watching as it molded itself perfectly to her body. It was a pure white, skirt reaching to the floor, the back completely open with a halter tie that she tied closed at the back of her neck, leaving her shoulders and arms bare. She fastened a second tie in the middle of her back, the top of the dress resembling something she’d seen called a bikini top in movies that she’d seen of Earth before the bombs, except instead of stopping beneath her breasts, the fabric tapered down to meet the skirt at her belly button, leaving her sides and most of her stomach exposed.

“It’s beautiful. I’ve never worn anything like this before.” Octavia said, stepping out from behind the screen. “The last time I even wore a dress was on the Ark. Was this your daughter’s?”

“No.” Simone said. “She wasn’t much for fancy dress. One of our seamstresses worked on it all night for you.”

“Please tell her thank you.”

“You will be able to do that yourself this evening at the feast. But first… are you ready? For what’s to come? It is almost second dawn.”

Octavia closed her eyes and took a few long and deep breaths, centering herself. Remembering why she was here. Remembering that the intricate dress that revealed much of her skin wasn’t for decoration, but for practicality, so it wouldn’t need to be ripped or torn. Remembering what she’d agreed to let her people to do to her body. Remembering that physical pain was inconsequential, as Simone had put it.

To offer up her flesh instead of her soul was almost a relief. Her body would heal. If she could teach her brother the cost of his judgment and his choices, and make him realize the truth, it would all be worth it. Everything she’d sacrificed, both in body and soul, would finally bring them to a better world.

She opened her eyes. “I’m ready.”

Octavia followed Simone out the door, where they were met by Russell and a number of guards. One of them stepped forward with a length of shimmering white cloth, matching the dress that Octavia wore. Russell used it to bind her wrists together in front of her without a word. When he was finished, two guards stepped up beside her, ready to escort her.

“Your people have assembled. All save the child, though Blythe Ann tells me that wasn’t without its struggles.” Russell said. “Last chance to change your mind. We can still take someone else.”

“No.” Octavia said firmly. “I’m doing this. I’m not afraid.”

Russell nodded once. “Then it is time to go. After you.”

The guards led Octavia ahead of them, down the stairs and through the great hall. As they walked, she straightened her posture, pushing her shoulders back and raising her chin, wearing an expression of pride and defiance. Her people had already broken her, this was her phoenix moment, her rebirth from the ashes that would shine a light in the dark places of their own souls that they’d tried so hard to hide away.

She would not be broken again.

* * *

They emerged from the great hall onto the balcony, where her people awaited. The guards took Octavia past them, to the far side of the balcony where a wooden frame had been erected, a number of metal rings set at different intervals along the inside of it.

Turning Octavia back to face her people, the guards unbound the cloth from her wrists, cut it in half, and used the two halves to bind Octavia’s wrists above her head, one length connecting her left wrist to the ring set into the top left corner, the other her right wrist to the ring in the top right. Job finished, they withdrew to stand next to Russell and Simone.

A wary silence settled over the balcony, the people from Earth looking at each other with apprehension. Octavia noted that Diyoza was no longer among them, and wondered where she’d gone to.

The crowd of Sanctum residents on the ground below them whispered amongst themselves with nervous voices. This event seemed to be special, rare - not something they knew how to prepare for.

Russell finally stepped up to the microphone, set just a few paces short of the frame, where Octavia was able to see him as he prepared to address the crowd.

“Good morning all. Today was supposed to be Naming Day, but in light of the attacks by the Children of Gabriel and the arrival of our guests from Earth, we have decided to postpone that ceremony. But do not fear, today we will still embrace the four pillars of Sanctum, as we welcome our new friends and as they learn them with us. These four pillars are?”

“Repent, Renew, Rejoice, Rebirth.” The crowd below chanted.

“Correct. We begin with Repent. You may have heard the rumours of what happened to the Earth, time and time again after our ancestors left it. Now we remain the last outpost of humanity in the universe. The last days of Earth were drenched in blood and sorrow, but today that violence ends as our guests repent of their sins with the offering of one of their own to the ritual of blood atonement.

“Octavia Blake has chosen to be the bearer of her people’s sins as they make the mark of them upon her. One at a time, they will step forward, name the sin they repent for, and bestow the appropriate punishment upon her skin. These sins will come in three stages. We will begin with the least severe - the sin of unintended consequences. Sins committed in ignorance or without intent, but that still caused harm to other human beings. The second stage is for sins committed with full knowledge of the harm they would cause. And the third, the gravest category of sins, those committed with full knowledge and intent that caused harm to great numbers of people. Let’s begin.”

Russell stepped away from the microphone, turning back towards Simone but he found his way cut off by the crowd of Earth survivors, whose expressions had turned from wary acceptance to fury and panic as Russell had spoken. 

“What do you mean ‘make the mark of them upon her’?” Clarke demanded to know. “Are you saying that _we_ are the ones doing this ritual?”

“Yes.” Russell said. “We cannot repent of your sins for you, only you can do that. Only you can claim your salvation. You want to be able to start a new life, don’t you?”

“And if we don’t?” Raven asked defiantly.

“Then you’ll find yourselves whipped down to bone and fed to the trees.” Simone said, cutting her way through the crowd, whip in hand, coming to stand beside Russell. “Your sins must be spoken aloud and released from your conscience.” She held the whip out to the Earth survivors. “Speak your sin into the microphone. Then deliver the number of strokes you need to release the sin from your soul. Then the next person will go.”

Octavia watched as they all looked at each other, looking to Bellamy, looking to Clarke, all looking for an answer as to what to do. Only Jackson, dear sweet Jackson, looked to her, eyes brimming with tears. He’d always been loyal, a healer, never a fighter, but always there to patch her people up when they needed it. Always there to save her life. Now he looked lost.

_Ste yuj. Ste yuj, osir kik raun,_ Octavia mouthed to him. She knew Jackson didn’t know a lot of Trig, but that she believed he would recognize. He nodded in understanding, pulling himself together, knowing that there was something deeper in play. He didn’t have much to atone for, she knew, and as a result could stay mostly on the sidelines, so this could play out as it needed to with her brother.

Finally Clarke took the offered whip, and stepped up to the microphone.

“For falsely accusing Murphy of killing Wells, leading to his attempted hanging and Charlotte’s death.” She whispered, though the microphone made her voice carry across the compound.

“I’m sorry, Octavia.” Clarke muttered as she stepped behind her, hefting the whip in her hand.

Octavia didn’t respond.

Clarke let loose the first stroke, which glanced across Octavia’s right shoulder blade. She didn’t move a muscle. A second, a third, then a pause. Octavia saw Murphy looking towards them, saw him shake his head slightly while looking past her, and Clarke let out a long-held breath, stepping away and heading back to the group, not looking back at Octavia. She pushed the whip into Raven’s hands, who looked at it with revulsion.

“You can’t be serious.” Raven said.

“Look, you can hate me later as much as you want, okay?” Clarke hissed at her. “But don’t condemn our people to suffer because you’re angry at me.”

“Our people are already suffering.” Raven said hollowly. “I don’t know how you can think she deserves this any more than you do.”

“No one deserves this.” Clarke said with exasperation. “But we need to know how to survive here. We do what we have to do to make that happen.”

“How many times have I heard that?” Raven asked, question clearly rhetorical, voice dripping with disgust as she walked towards the microphone, whip heavy in her hand. Her eyes met Octavia’s, though Octavia didn’t know her well enough to really read her expression. But given how Raven had berated Bellamy on the ship after he shocked her, she didn’t expect that Raven would be in any way vicious to her.

“For setting off the signal flares that accidentally burned a Grounder village to the ground.” Raven intoned into the microphone, voice unnervingly flat, and stepped away quickly to take her place behind Octavia.

Octavia heard her take a number of slow breaths before hefting the whip, then the _crack_ as it crashed across her shoulder blades. Silence followed.

“I’m sorry.” Raven murmured to her as she stepped away, disappearing into the Earth crowd and dropping the whip on the ground as she went.

They all looked at it for a long moment, before Bellamy picked it up. He met Octavia’s eyes, staring into them long and hard, and she returned a defiant look. He stepped up to the microphone.

“For encouraging the delinquents to remove their telemetric wristbands and destroying Raven’s radio, all of which prevented communication with the Ark and led to the death of 320 of our people in the Culling.” 

Octavia closed her eyes as Bellamy came to stand behind her. She knew her brother, she knew that tone of voice, she knew how much guilt he had felt over the Culling. She could expect no mercy from him.

The first stroke made a loud _crack_ as it sliced down the length of her back, and Octavia knew he’d drawn first blood. Clarke and Raven hadn’t come close.

The sight of her blood must have spurred him on, because he rained down blow after blow, not pausing to create a new stroke with the same intensity, but a flurry of short blooms of pain scattered across her back. After Octavia counted thirty-two, they stopped, and she could hear Bellamy breathing harshly, bracing himself against the wooden frame. He staggered away, shoving the whip at Murphy as they all watched a few drops of Octavia’s blood slide off of it to splash onto the paving stones.

Murphy weighed the whip in his hand thoughtfully, his gaze rising to meet Raven’s. She shook her head at him, knowing instinctively what he was thinking of.

“I’m sorry.” He said, but the sorry was directed at Raven, not anyone else.

He moved to the microphone, and, with a glance back at Raven, spoke into it. “For shooting Raven and causing her disability.”

Murphy stopped at three strokes too, as Clarke had, but they were stronger and more measured, the whip leaving a trail of blood in its wake as Murphy walked back to the group, where Bellamy took it back from him, walking back towards the microphone.

“For trusting an Ice Nation spy, leading to the deaths of 49 members of Skaikru.”

From the shock on Echo’s face, Octavia could tell that she hadn’t been expecting Bellamy to be so blunt about their past, and as Echo’s expression turned stony, Octavia knew that whatever look Bellamy was giving her wasn’t a happy one.

Octavia steeled herself for what was to come. _Stay quiet. Don’t let them hear you. Don’t let them know,_ she thought. She knew Bellamy was still a long way off from the epiphany she needed him to have. The epiphany that would save her life and their souls.

But for the first time since stepping out onto that balcony, she was no longer sure if he would reach it in time, and that chilled her to the bone as the lash fell again and again.

Octavia felt the whip slice into her back, her blood spattering across her white dress, as Bellamy kept going and didn’t stop. More controlled than the last time, he drew blood with each and every stroke, knocking her off-balance with the force of them, leaving her sagging in her bonds as he delivered the last of forty-nine lashes.

She struggled back to her feet as he stormed away, again not looking back. All of Earth’s survivors looked at him with shock as he forced the whip into Echo’s hands, leaving both of their hands stained with Octavia’s blood. Echo looked like she was about to cry, but she composed herself and walked up to the microphone.

“For killing my best friend in a fight to the death when we were children, a task set on us by the Ice Queen, and then assuming my friend’s identity to survive.”

Echo stepped behind Octavia, closer than the others had, and then Octavia heard her voice, a low whisper that was meant for her ears only.

“We’re losing him.” Echo breathed as close to Octavia’s ear as she dared. “I see the game you’re playing, but this will kill both of you if you’re not careful. He won’t listen to me, so I hope you will. You think bearing it all quietly is being strong, but it is the opposite. Show the pain on your face. Let him see it. Let him feel it. That’s the only way to wake him up.”

Echo stepped back and was brutally efficient with the five strokes she delivered, matching them perfectly to wounds Bellamy had already left, scoring them deeper. Octavia took Echo’s advice, letting a short but sharp cry of agony slip past her lips, looking straight at Bellamy as she did, though he turned away at the sound of it. She wasn’t sure if that was progress or not.

Hearing Octavia’s cry seemed to stir something in Abby though, for as Echo returned to the group of Earth survivors, Abby tore the whip from her hands and proceeded to the microphone without hesitation, looking directly at Octavia as she spoke into it, voice trembling with barely contained rage.

“For creating you. _Blodreina.”_ She rasped, crossing the space between them quickly and unleashing all of her rage on Octavia’s already bleeding skin. Abby’s primal screams accompanied each stroke of the whip, and though Abby didn’t have the raw strength that Bellamy or Echo or even Murphy possessed, enough damage had already been done that Octavia felt Abby’s fury through every bite of the whip, the ground beneath her bare feet turning slippery with her own blood as it streamed to the ground in rivulets.

Octavia lost track of how many lashes Abby gave her, feeling light-headed from the blood loss, losing her footing again, scrambling to find it, though unsuccessfully. Panic welled up in her throat and through her unbidden tears she saw someone charging towards her, but veering off before they collided, and suddenly Abby’s assault stopped.

“Mom!” Clarke yelled. “That’s _enough!”_

“No. It’s not.” Abby wailed. “It can never be enough.”

Clarke pulled Abby back around to the group, yanking the whip from her bloodstained hands and dropping it on the ground in front of Russell.

“We’re done with this stage.” Clarke said firmly, a rising conviction in her voice. “We are _done_ with it, you hear me?”

Russell nodded. “You have one hour to compose yourselves before the next stage. You can choose your own doctor to tend to Octavia, or we can assign one.”

“I will.” Jackson said, stepping forward quickly. “Just bring me the supplies I’ll need.”

Clarke looked like she wanted to help Jackson, but as she was still holding onto Abby’s struggling form, Raven and Echo joined him instead, helping Octavia regain her footing, untying her bonds and lowering her to the ground. Pressure on her arms relieved, Octavia began to breathe more easily, panic retreating and tears dissipating. 

“Is it true?” Raven whispered as she pulled Octavia’s hair off her back, balancing her upper body between herself and Echo.

“Is what true?” Octavia asked, wincing as Jackson began to clean the lash marks with disinfectant.

“People are starting to wonder if this is a test. Of us. What lengths we’re willing to go to.”

Octavia exchanged a glance with Echo. “I didn’t say anything.” Echo said.

“People who believe in peace wouldn’t demand violence as a proof of commitment to peace.” Raven continued. “They’re testing whether we’re so lost in violence that we think it makes sense.”

“But everyone has to come to that conclusion on their own.” Echo warned Raven. “We _each_ need to choose to stop the cycle of violence. You get me?”

Raven nodded imperceptibly, turning her head slightly to address Octavia. “You let them do this to you?”

“No.” Octavia shook her head. “I let _you_ do this to me.”

“Point taken. But _why?”_

“People hasten to judge in order not to be judged themselves.”

“That’s Albert Camus.” Jackson said suddenly. “From his novel _The Fall.”_

A ghost of a smile painted itself across Octavia’s lips. “Yes. It is.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Echo asked.

“If I had to guess - to use another quote - Men are never convinced of your reasons, of your sincerity, of the seriousness of your sufferings, except by your death. So long as you are alive, your case is doubtful; you have a right only to their skepticism.” Jackson said.

“What you said last night.” Raven said slowly, realization dawning. “That maybe after this, after you were dead, that Bellamy would realize that everything you’ve done has been for your people.”

“I’ve always known that.” Jackson murmured as he began to stitch closed what he could of Octavia’s wounds. “I’ve known that from the day you stopped Cooper’s mutiny. I knew that during the Dark Year when you sacrificed everything to save us because people didn’t want to save themselves. I knew that when we marched on the Valley. And I know that now.”

“The Dark Year?” Raven asked. “What was that?”

“Not now.” Echo said, taking stock of the others, including Russell and Simone, hovering not far away. “There will be time for that later. Right now we just need to keep her alive. Can you sit up on your own, Octavia? The looks the Primes are giving us are telling us to clear out.”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

Echo and Raven stood up, retreating back to the crowd. Octavia braced herself against the ground with her forearms to let Jackson keep working.

“How bad is it?” Octavia asked him, arms slipping a bit in spots of blood until she was able to steady herself.

“I’m not sure how much blood you’ve lost, but given how much has soaked into your dress, I wouldn’t recommend losing much more without a transfusion. There are at least a dozen wounds that are going to scar substantially and I hope I can close them all before the hour is up. Some more that could scar. And substantial bruising, especially on your upper back. I hope that whatever the next round they have planned is doesn’t involve more of the same.”

“Not all of that bruising is from now.” Octavia muttered. “Some of it is from yesterday on the ship.”

Jackson sighed. “Please don’t destroy yourself, Octavia. I know it might not seem like it, but people do care about you. I care about you. _Bellamy_ cares about you. He doesn’t want this.”

“Then he’s the one who has to prove himself to make it stop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Octavia's hairstyle here is inspired by the pictures I've seen of [Daenerys Targaryen](https://media.glamour.com/photos/59911538f11fd00de6733a82/1:1/w_1195,h_1195,c_limit/game-of-thrones-queens-justice-jon-snow-daenerys-04.jpg) from _Game of Thrones_ , though Octavia's hair is shorter and will only reach the top of her back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As growing numbers of Earthkru refuse further participation in the ritual of blood atonement, tensions between Octavia and Bellamy reach a breaking point.
> 
> **Warning:** Even more graphic depictions of torture in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigedasleng:
> 
> Omon gon oson - All of me/him/her/them for all of us  
> Oyun gon oson - All of you for all of us

Jackson managed to close all of Octavia’s most grievous wounds before the hour was up.

“It’s time.” Russell said. “Guards, hands above her head this time.”

The guards helped Octavia stand. As Russell ordered, they looped the cloth around her wrists and tied the cloth to the ring directly above her head. Octavia watched as Raven rubbed her arm nervously, her hand glancing over a place where Octavia remembered that Raven was cut while tied in a similar position. When Lexa had suspected her of attempting to poison her and sentenced her to death by a thousand cuts.

“Before we begin, I must ask, are there any of you who refuse to continue?” Russell asked the group of Earth survivors. “If you will not take any more blood from her, tell us now.”

Octavia observed them all carefully, seeing them all shift around nervously, looking back and forth at each other, before finally Raven stepped forward and raised her chin in defiance.

“I refuse.” She said clearly. “I believe in doing better, and this is not better.”

Echo stepped up next to her. “I will not spill the blood of another for my own crimes.”

Jackson started to step forward, but Miller stopped him. “What are you doing, Jax?”

“I can’t, Nate.” Jackson said, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away again. “I can’t take blood from _our friend_ like this. I can’t cause injury and then stitch it back up like it never happened. I won’t.”

This time, Miller let him go, and Jackson stepped into line with Raven and Echo.

“Anyone else?” Russell asked.

There were no more takers. Russell motioned to the guards, and the guards seized the three of them, taking them to the palace wall, putting gags in their mouths and binding their wrists. They were forced to their knees, still with a clear view of everything that was going on.

Russell surveyed the rest of the Earth survivors and pointed at Abby. “Take her too.” He ordered. “Atonement must be practiced with a clear and steady mind, and hers is not.” 

As the guards took Abby to join Raven, Echo and Jackson, Russell stepped back up to the microphone. “It is time to begin the second stage of atonement - this time for sins committed with full intent, but limited in scope.” He pulled a knife out of a scabbard at his waist, and held it out to the Earth survivors. “Same procedure as before.”

Gaia, who had stayed out of the first round, stepped forward to take the knife from Russell. At first, she didn’t move from where she stood, as if she was contemplating exactly what she was doing there. What she wanted to do, perhaps. Octavia couldn’t get a good read on her, couldn’t tell what exactly was going on in the Flamekeeper’s mind.

Eventually, Gaia did step forward to the microphone, glancing over to Octavia briefly, but not long enough that she could get a good view of her expression.

“For creating the mythos of a false Commander.” Gaia said. “For dishonouring my faith to ensure survival.”

Gaia stepped over to Octavia, standing in front of her, just a few inches separating them, as Gaia contemplated where and how to cut her.

“Nine Commanders including Bekka Pramheda.” Gaia whispered, apparently to herself, since she didn’t look at Octavia. “Nine cuts.”

Now Gaia looked up, steeling her gaze as she met Octavia’s eyes, and Octavia felt the bite of the knife slicing into her side. Gaia didn’t look down, and Octavia didn’t flinch, feeling eight more short cuts after the first spaced carefully down the length of her left side.

_“Oyun gon oson.”_ Gaia said as she stepped back. “We’ll make ourselves worthy of your sacrifice.”

Gaia bid a hasty retreat to the crowd, holding out the knife and not really looking at who took it. To Octavia’s complete lack of surprise, Bellamy did and approached the microphone.

“For shooting two messengers who brought tidings of peace, even when I’d given them all the reasons for a war.”

Bellamy took his time in observing Octavia, making his choice about where to place his cuts. He didn’t meet her eyes, in fact he seemed to be actively avoiding it. Was this the glimmer of hope that Octavia was looking for? That Bellamy was starting to see that this wasn’t the way?

As she felt the tip of the dagger dig into her side, beneath the cuts that Gaia had made, she realized it was a false hope. Bellamy dragged the tip down, tearing, not cutting, her flesh, scraping over her hipbone until he hit her skirt. He wasn’t just being methodical like the others thought they had to be - he was _deliberately_ causing her pain.

Like with the shock collar.

Tears sprang to Octavia’s eyes, the fear that she’d never leave this balcony was becoming all too frighteningly real. Her brother _wanted_ her to suffer. _Wanted_ her in pain. _Wanted_ to unload all of his crimes onto her.

The knife tore down her side three more times as she tried to sniff her tears away, but Bellamy took no notice of them, gave no sign that he heard her, though she was sure he did.

When he was done, he stepped back, finally glancing up at her face, her eyes glassy with tears. His eyes turned angry at the sight of them and he stepped forwards again, resting the tip of the knife on her sternum.

“You chose this.” Bellamy growled. “Remember that.”

He stormed back to the group, and Emori took the bloody knife from his hand, pressing a hand to his shoulder as she did, in support, in consolation, Octavia wasn’t sure. She didn’t know Emori at all, didn’t know what kind of relationship she had with her brother, what they’d talked about during those six years in space. But she did know that Emori was also close with Echo and Raven, both of whom had refused to continue, and Murphy, who looked to be on the verge of refusing, so… Emori was a variable she didn’t know. She hoped that if Emori tapped out, then that would begin to tell Bellamy that he needed to stop as well.

Emori didn’t go to the microphone, but rather right up to Octavia, holding the knife to Octavia’s throat, pressing - pressing with the flat of the blade, not cutting - on the scar from back in Mount Weather where Indra had disowned her (for the first time). Emori was a Grounder, she knew what that scar meant, whether she knew the circumstances was immaterial.

She looked into Octavia’s eyes, as if searching for something, not saying a word. Then she stepped back, pulling the knife away, and went up to the microphone.

“There was once a time when I sacrificed the lives of others so that I could live. That is not who I am anymore. I will not sacrifice my family to satisfy your need for blood.”

Octavia’s heart warmed at that, hearing that Emori, of all people, considered her family. She didn’t know the girl, they hadn’t ever even spoken, but here she was, defending her when her own brother wouldn’t.

It was something to hold onto, at least.

Emori left the microphone, walking back to the crowd, throwing the knife at Russell, who caught it by the handle. He reversed his grip on it, holding the handle back out towards the crowd while the guards approached Emori.

Murphy stepped between Emori and the guards, holding them back with one hand, and surprisingly, they obeyed.

“Emori, what are you doing?”

“This isn’t right John, and you know it.”

“What other choice do we have? We don’t need to go _hard,_ but the more of us who refuse, the more of us are left to… to do it. And if Bellamy is, we -”

“Bellamy’s the problem.” Emori hissed, though her voice still carried, though Bellamy himself seemed uninterested. “She’s his sister. Not many of any of us can say we understand what that means. But I can. I lost my brother. I left him and let him go off with Jaha and ALIE and he died for it. I… I can’t let that happen to anyone else. I won’t let anyone else lose their family like that. I won’t let _us_ lose that family. Because she’s one of us too.”

“Enough!” Russell bellowed. “Take the girl to the wall. Young man, you better decide what you’re doing right now.”

The guards dragged Emori away, and Russell placed the knife in Murphy’s hand, and he just stared at it for a long while, looking between the knife and Emori and Raven on their knees by the wall. They couldn’t say anything, but the looks they gave him were clear - _don’t do this._

Murphy turned away from them, walking up to the microphone. Octavia saw his troubled look, and she knew he was conflicted.

“For killing two guys who had tried to hang me for a crime I didn’t commit.” Murphy spoke into the microphone.

Murphy walked over to Octavia, appraising her the same way Gaia and Bellamy had, as if she was a piece of meat and they needed to just pick the right place to make their mark. But Octavia caught the tremble in his hand.

“One of our first days on the ground, I called you Bellamy’s psycho little sister.” Murphy said, voice low so it wouldn’t carry. “He almost killed me for that. But you were a bit damaged.” He smirked softly, though nothing about his look was malicious. “We all were. We all are, isn’t like anything about that has changed. Otherwise we wouldn’t be standing here.”

Octavia had to smirk at that herself.

“I don’t know what kind of sick game you’re playing with your brother. I don’t know if you want him to kill you, or if you want to teach him a lesson, or a thousand other possibilities, but Emori’s right. I may not have had a brother or sister, but I know what it’s like to lose family and know that you’re the cause of it. Now, whether that means I should kill you to spare him the pain of that, or if I should let you keep playing your game… well, we all know I’m not the self-sacrificing type. But I hope that whatever happens between you two, you don’t leave it with words left unsaid. Because that’s the worst part of loss. Don’t let that happen to you.”

Murphy cut two small notches into Octavia’s shoulder, a token statement, and walked away without any further words, handing the knife back to Russell and going to stand by the wall next to Emori. A guard forced him to his knees too.

Miller stepped forward, taking the knife from Russell. He went to the microphone, seemingly at a loss for words, but feeling as if he should be there. “I…” he trailed off, looking back at Jackson, looking at Octavia, taking particular interest in the _red_ that soaked her clothes. Her blood, in various states of fresh, drying and dried.

“I spent six years believing in blood. Believing that the blood of our people would save us so that we’d make it back to the ground. I… we’ve found ourselves on a different ground now. Does your promise still apply? I remember what you said to us in the cafeteria that day, at the start of the Dark Year. ‘I give all of myself to you’. That’s what you said. For all else that happened after the bunker was opened… I still believe that. I did what I had to then, and I’ll do it now too. For believing in _omon gon oson,_ all of me for all of us.”

Miller walked over to Octavia, ignoring her already bleeding left side for the right, making six quick slashes down her ribs.

_“Oyun gon oson, Blodreina.”_ Miller whispered.

Octavia closed her eyes, not wanting to hear that name anymore, and she thought that meant Miller was done, but as she felt the blade cut into her arm, she realized he wasn’t. She didn’t want to look at him though, not after that name, and counted as he made six more cuts, three into each arm. Only then did he move away, and Octavia opened her eyes again as she felt her blood begin to run down her arms.

Clarke had taken the knife from Miller and her expression was sad as she walked up to the microphone.

“For not putting an end to Carl Emerson when I had the chance, leading to Sinclair’s death.”

Octavia’s eyes were on Clarke, but she heard a sob come from the palace wall, expecting that it was Raven, not expecting to hear the memory of her mentor _here,_ in this context, when Clarke was about to do what Raven would find reprehensible. Raven yelled something, but whatever it was was garbled by the gag in her mouth. Octavia believed it was something about how Sinclair wouldn’t want this, that Clarke shouldn’t do this in _his_ name.

And then there was what Clarke had done to Emerson and his people too. But that would come later.

Clarke came to stand in front of her, her hand with the knife not trembling like Murphy’s was. Clarke was sure with a knife, Octavia knew that, and that surety sent a chill down her spine.

“If you want me to do what I did for Finn, just say what he said.” Clarke said carefully. “Say ‘thanks, princess’.”

“You stabbed a knife into his heart.”

“If you want me to spare your brother the pain of that, just say it.”

“I don’t. Sparing him pain is not for _you_ to give.”

Clarke was momentarily taken aback, and her expression turned quizzical, as if she was beginning to understand something, but wasn’t quite there yet. But still she raised the knife, making two long cuts on each of Octavia’s arms before stepping back, observing her work, and slowly turning away.

As she returned to the dwindling crowd of Earth survivors, Bellamy took the knife from her hand and returned to the microphone.

“For being the catalyst of Lincoln’s execution.” Bellamy spoke clearly, his voice hovering on the edge of emotion, though _which_ emotion, Octavia couldn’t tell. But she was furious that he had brought _him_ into it.

Bellamy didn’t hesitate in digging the tip of the blade into her right side, tearing her skin open like he had on the other side. He saw her furious expression and he challenged it right back with a furious expression of his own.

“How deep should my guilt go, O?” Bellamy hissed, digging the blade in just _that much harder_ as it scored down to the bone of her hip. “Is this enough? Should I do more? Should I feel worse? For taking your love away from you?”

Octavia didn’t answer. She _couldn’t_ answer. Not only because talking to Bellamy like _this_ felt like it was physically impossible, but because _he_ needed to be the one to find the right answer. She couldn’t do that, as much as it made her furious and terrified and more emotions besides.

She couldn’t do it. She could only stare daggers at him through her tears as he tore the very real knife down her side over and over again.

But she couldn’t disguise a soft sigh of relief when he finally stopped, but that only served to make him angrier. He pressed the dagger into the dip of her collarbone again, the tip pricking a hole in her skin, blood trickling down the blade and onto Bellamy’s hand. He stared at it with a macabre fascination.

“Is this enough?” Bellamy asked, his voice hovering on the edge between fire and ice as he pressed the knife in a bit deeper. “Is this enough guilt for killing Lincoln? Is this enough _blood?_ How much more blood needs to be spilled to avenge his death? Will it ever be over?”

Octavia wanted to nod, wanted to say yes, _yes it was enough,_ but her whole body was frozen, she couldn’t move or speak, not with the terror of her brother still not coming to his senses, still not realizing what half of his people already had.

“That’s enough.” Clarke whispered quietly, somehow she’d materialized next to Bellamy, Octavia didn’t know how or when, but she was there, her hand on Bellamy’s arm trying to draw it back.

“I need her to say it.” Bellamy growled.

“She can’t. Bellamy, stop.”

He didn’t stop on his own, Clarke had to use both of her hands to pull the blade back, to pull him back, pulling the knife from his hands like she’d taken the whip from Abby earlier. She dragged Bellamy back to the crowd, his eyes still on his bloody hands. The knife crashed onto the paving stones in front of Russell as Clarke declared this round _done_ as well.

“We will move on to the third round.” Russell declared. “No time to think this time. Guards!”

Several guards stepped away out of sight into a side room, while Russell himself came up to Octavia, untying her hands from above her head and refastening them to the frame at her shoulder level, the blood from her wounds changing course on the freshest ones, other wounds beginning to clot.

“We’re moving on quickly for your sake.” Russell said under his breath. “With your doctor out of the game I can’t bring him back. Moving on to fire has the opportunity to seal some of these wounds.”

Octavia nodded almost imperceptibly, for Russell’s eyes only.

“I’m truly sorry, Octavia. I didn’t think they’d take it this far. Our people would have stopped a long time ago. Just say the word and I’ll put an end to it.”

“I can’t. I have to see this through. All of this means nothing if I can’t make my brother see.”

Russell’s expression was sad. “You’ve got the same determination as my Josie. Never willing to do anything by halves. But I hope you can find a peace that she never could. Talk to your brother. Make him understand how you feel. If he hasn’t wanted to ask before, don’t wait for him to ask now.”

He didn’t wait for an answer from her, and tied the final knot, turning to face the guards, who brought a small fire pit onto the balcony, setting it down between the microphone and the frame. Octavia could see an assortment of pokers and smaller metal tools poking out, the other ends of each of them buried deep within the pit of burning coals.

The pit in place, Russell returned to the microphone.

“Now we will move on to the third stage - full knowledge and intent to harm or cause death to large numbers of people. Here, in this final stage, with fire we purify Sanctum.

“This stage does not apply to all of you, so those who did not partake in mass murder can go to the wall and wait. If there was an act you engaged in together, you can bestow your guilt upon her together.”

That left just Bellamy and Clarke standing in the middle of the balcony, looking at each other.

“Together.” Clarke said.

“Together.” Bellamy agreed.

They walked up to the pit, and each withdrew one of the long thin pieces of metal, glowing hot at the other end. Clarke went to the microphone, while Bellamy stayed staring at the hot coals.

“For the genocide of Mount Weather.”

The two of them came to stand before Octavia. Clarke pressed her weapon to the wound on Octavia’s collarbone, where blood was still steadily ebbing out, cauterizing it with a hiss of burning flesh. Octavia grit her teeth, steeling herself against the pain, knowing she wanted them to break first if she was to survive this.

“Three hundred and eighty one to go.” Bellamy said, pressing his to one of the cuts on Octavia’s arm. “Three hundred and eighty.”

One cut after another, though some they didn’t seal entirely, just symbolically across a part of the wound, Clarke and Bellamy counted their way down through the dead of Mount Weather.

Bellamy was the first to run out of wounds to seal, and replaced his weapon again, pulling a new long thin piece from the coals. He pressed the end of it to Octavia’s shoulder, along one of the lines of her tattoo, holding it there, watching as Octavia’s body began to shake as she could no longer control her pain responses, one of her tears dripping onto the hot metal with a sizzle.

Though her eyes were glassy with tears yet unshed, and her body screamed with pain, somehow Octavia still noticed that Clarke was trying to make eye contact, and she raised her chin to do so.

It seemed whatever Clarke had been trying to figure out earlier had finally dawned on her, and as she met Octavia’s eyes, she stepped back, dropping her weapon to the ground, where it crashed against the paving stones loud and hard enough to shatter one of them.

“Clarke, what are you doing?” Bellamy questioned.

“We’ve taken this way too far, Bellamy. This isn’t right. We can’t build a new world on your sister’s blood.”

“There is no choice if we want our people to live.”

“We’ll find another way. We always do. But if she dies like this… you’ll never forgive yourself. Never.”

“She wants to die, Clarke, why can’t you see that?”

Clarke met Octavia’s eyes. “No. She doesn’t.”

Bellamy dropped his thin piece of metal back into the coals, shouldering Clarke out of his way as he grabbed one of the bigger pokers, pressing the tip of it into his sister’s belly, pressing it harder against her skin, watching as her instinct took over and she released a loud scream due to the pain.

“What are you trying to prove?” Bellamy asked.

“What doesn’t kill you… makes you stronger…” Octavia finally spoke.

“This _will_ kill you, O, don’t you get that? There’s only one way this ends.”

“Is there? I know what it feels like to think you don’t have any other choices. I’ve been there. But you… you never thought your little sister would have to make choices like that. To _lead_ like that. You wish none of it ever happened. But it did.” Now that Octavia had started to talk, she couldn’t stop. Russell was right, Bellamy did need to hear this. Maybe this was the only way he would realize. “Instead of being there for me like I needed you to be, you… you were a stranger. And that’s what brings us here today. To this place. To this moment. Where you have a choice. You can kill me, if that’s what you think you need to do, when everyone else has already decided it isn’t worth the cost. Or you can stop and we can find another way.”

“If I stop now, everything I’ve done to you right here is for nothing. And when I see Mom again, I’ll have to tell her that I tortured my little sister for nothing. That I couldn’t save you, I couldn’t save them, that we all died… and it all meant _nothing.”_

“Don’t you get it? This… this is all just skin and flesh and bone. Nothing you’ve done to me here hurts more than the pain I felt when you opened the bunker and didn’t even ask me how I was. Didn’t ask what had happened to me over those six years. Then you built a story in your mind about my title and my motives and didn’t even care to find out what was true. And then took away my choices, one by one, until all I was left with was - was what you’re staring at right now.”

“O…” Bellamy didn’t move the poker, but out of the corner of her eye, Octavia did see his hand tremble. She was getting through to him.

“But I’m not like you, Bell. I’m not going to stand here and say there’s no coming back. There is. You can come back from this. There is always the opportunity to come back. I _need_ you to come back. Because if I can’t have my brother stand by me in this world, I don’t want to _be_ in this world.”

Bellamy looked pleadingly into her eyes, saying nothing, but watching tears drip down her cheeks as her whole body shook. His hand trembled again, and she looked down to where it still held the hot poker to her belly.

“Nay, I must wait then and be slain.” Octavia whispered, for Bellamy’s ears only, quoting the ancient Greek playwright Euripides. “Thou shalt walk free in Argolis again, and all life smile on thee… we need not shrink from that. I shall by mine own deed have saved thee.”

The poker crashed to the ground.

“This hand hath blood enough.” Bellamy responded, only for her to hear. “I stand with thee one-hearted here, be it for life or death, and either bear thee, if God favoureth, with me to Greece and home, or else lie here dead at thy side.”

Octavia looked up to meet his eyes, his dark eyes full of tears and agony as he reached blindly for her wrists to untie her, releasing one and then the other, and she threw her arms around his neck, heedless of her injuries and only wanting to feel her brother again, weeping into his neck.

She felt Bellamy’s tears hot on her own neck, but when he didn’t go to embrace her she pulled back, tears clouding her vision.

He already knew what she was going to ask. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore.” Bellamy wept. “I - there’s nowhere I can hold you without hurting you. I’m so sorry, O. I’m so so sorry.”

“The only thing that hurts right now is my big brother not holding me.” Octavia sobbed, holding his head in her hands, resting her forehead against his, wiping away some of his tears. “I just need my big brother.”

Bellamy finally embraced her, and while all of her injuries screamed from the contact, causing her knees to buckle and both of them to collapse to the ground, crying into each other’s shoulders, everything was finally right.

“I love you so much, O.”

“I love you too, big brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As in some of my other fics, the lines from Euripides that Octavia and Bellamy quote at each other are from the play _Iphigenia in Tauris_ , and I can't believe they haven't used these in the show yet, given the Blakes' penchant for Greek mythology, because that play is quite literally a Greek mythology AU of the Blake siblings' story (or rather, _The 100_ is a post-apocalyptic AU of the original Greek play).
> 
> Bellamy will face an emotional reckoning with everything he's done, don't worry. We all know Octavia forgives him too easily, but he still has his own guilty conscience to deal with, as well as other people. He also needs to learn his sister's story. Coming tomorrow!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy is forced to confront the reality of what he's done to his sister, and the Blakes have a long-overdue talk about the horrors Octavia faced in the bunker.

Minutes passed, and as the Blakes showed no signs of moving from where they were, everyone around them started to get restless. The Earth survivors looked warily at the Primes, but Simone and Russell’s expressions were inscrutable. Had they guessed correctly, that it was a test, or were they all about to be struck down?

Once the crowd down below the balcony started getting restless too, Russell stepped up next to the Blakes and rested a hand on Bellamy’s shoulder. Bellamy started, looking to see who it was, and hastily wiped his tears away. He started getting to his feet, bringing Octavia with him, but her adrenaline had worn off and she was too weak to stand on her own, so he scooped her up in his arms, staring Russell down.

“Kill us all if you have to. But I won’t kill my sister for you.”

“I won’t ask you to. It’s over. We’ve seen what we needed to see.”

“And what was that?”

“Mercy. Understanding. Family. Faith.”

Bellamy eyed the rest of the Earth survivors. “They were right. It was a test.”

“Yes.”

“A test that I failed.” Bellamy looked down at Octavia, half-conscious in his arms. “I did this to her.”

“She knew the risks. But she’ll be all right now. She has you. Family is the most precious thing in the world, Mr Blake. Don’t take her for granted again.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. Simone will show you to our hospital. Bring your doctor. Or, should I say, bring the doctor your sister trusts, not the one who tried to kill her.”

Bellamy nodded. “Jackson! Help me take Octavia to the hospital.”

The guards released Jackson’s bonds and he hurried up to join them.

“Simone is a doctor as well. She’ll help you.” Russell said. “Go. Help her heal.”

“Thank you.”

Bellamy followed Simone off the balcony and through the compound, Jackson close on his heels as they moved quickly to get Octavia the help she needed.

They entered the hospital and Simone directed them down a hallway to an operating room.

“Get her on the table.” Simone said. “On her back for now, since those injuries have been treated for the moment, but we’ll circle back to them again later. First we need to treat the newest ones.”

Bellamy laid her down gently, but Octavia stirred back to consciousness as he let go of her.

“No…” Octavia mumbled. “Don’t go, Bell…”

“I’m right here.” He grabbed one of her hands. “I’ll be here with you the whole time, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Dr Jackson, the morphine is over there to your left. Scrub up and run an IV of that along with anesthetic. I’ll get a blood transfusion going.” Simone paused for a moment, giving Octavia a motherly caress on the cheek that confused Bellamy. “The treatment is probably going to hurt worse than the injuries. Poor child.”

Simone retrieved a pair of scissors from a drawer and cut the last threads that held the top of Octavia’s dress to the skirt, as well as the different ties holding it to her body, pulling it away carefully so that they could get a better view of all of her injuries.

Bellamy’s heart sank as he took them all in, squeezing Octavia’s hand between both of his. He saw more knife wounds than he could even count, and the burn marks all over her shoulders and abdomen were an angry red, most of all the mark from the poker he’d half-stabbed into his sister’s belly himself.

“I’m so sorry, O.” He whispered again. “I’m so sorry.”

Octavia gave no response, her hand slack in his.

“What’s wrong with her?” Bellamy asked. “What’s happening?”

“It’s all right.” Simone assured him. “Anesthesia is putting her to sleep so that we can treat her wounds without her needing to be conscious for it. She’ll wake up when it is over. Don’t worry.”

“I’ve been treating your sister for six years, Bellamy.” Jackson said. “Trust us. We’ll take care of her.”

“You must know her better than I do.” Bellamy said hollowly. “She was right. I don’t know anything about her life in the bunker. I don’t know what happened there. I only know what I saw when I opened it.”

“All she’s wanted is for you to know and understand.” Jackson said as he worked. “I hope that now you’ll give that to her.”

“I will. I promise, I will.”

“Good. You owe her that much.”

“I know I do. I owed it to her back then - but I failed. She was right. I never asked her what her life was like down there. I never asked any of you. I just figured… I don’t even know. That I raised her _too_ well on mythology.”

“It wasn’t about you.” Simone said stiffly. “It was about finding a way to keep order.”

“How would you know?” Bellamy asked. “And how is any of this your business?”

Jackson looked between Bellamy and Simone. “She’s not wrong. But how did you know that?”

Simone looked down at Octavia, mulling over what to say, remembering her promise to the sleeping girl. Her promise that she wouldn’t divulge information to either of their people. “Part of the preparation for the ritual that we did with Octavia last night.”

“We?”

“Russell and I. To ensure truthfulness during the ritual, it was necessary for us to know your history. Not whatever stories Jordan told Delilah, or events as Clarke described them. The undoctored truth. We have the technology to do that, to… view memories. So last night, I saw your sister’s memories. Experienced them, more like.”

“Then tell me. What did you see?”

“No.” Simone shook her head. “I won’t. You need to hear it from her. It’s her story to tell. And what’s more, I promised her I wouldn’t share her story, not with my people, not with yours, without her consent.”

Bellamy turned to Jackson. “You were there with her. Give me some idea of what I’m walking into.”

“I can’t, Bellamy. I agree with Simone. You need to hear it from her. Just know… know that everything that happened, everything you saw, happened for a reason. It was never her first choice. She tried so hard to work for peace and unity, but everyone else made it nearly impossible. She did the best she could and I have the utmost respect for her. She saved all of our lives so many times.”

“Not everyone’s. Lots of people died.”

“More would have died without her. If it hadn’t been for Octavia, you would have opened a tomb. I say that with complete and utter certainty. Without her, we would have all died.”

Jackson and Simone focused back on their work, leaving Bellamy to contemplate what they’d said. He sat there for hours, clutching Octavia’s hand, watching the doctors clean, stitch up and bandage one wound after another. Most of which had been _his_ doing. He felt particularly sick with himself as he watched Simone clean and excise the burned skin from Octavia’s stomach, from the place he’d held a burning poker to his own sister’s flesh and believed that it was justified.

How he’d electrocuted her, and believed he was doing the right thing.

How he’d encouraged her to die for him, and believed that she deserved it.

How he’d poisoned her, and believed he was saving the human race.

Overcome with nausea, Bellamy dropped Octavia’s hand and raced over to the sink, vomiting into it, disgusted with himself and everything he’d done. Sobs welled up in his throat, and he tried to stifle them, tried to make them go away, but nonetheless the others noticed and Simone came up next to him, running the water of the sink to clean it out, picking up a cup and filling it with water, handing it to him.

“How can she forgive me?” Bellamy croaked out. “How? I condemned her for less.”

“Forgiveness isn’t about what the other person deserves. Forgiveness is for one’s own heart. You mean so much to her. She was willing to risk her life to make you see that.”

“Why risk her life at all? Why make her do any of this? What benefit does any of this give you?”

“It wasn’t for us. It was for all of you to confront the darkness within yourselves, that many of you were projecting onto her. As long as she was the bad guy, you all wouldn’t look at those destructive parts within yourselves. You wouldn’t admit that a darkness lived within you too, because as long as she wore darkness openly, yours could hide in the shadow of hers.”

Bellamy nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

“Now, pull yourself together. We’re almost done here. If you could please scrub up so that you can hold her upright so that Dr Jackson and I can bandage her back, then we’ll be finished.”

“Of course.”

Bellamy took off his jacket and washed up, sitting down on the operating table such that he could support Octavia, following Jackson’s instructions carefully regarding where to hold her.

“We’re done here.” Simone said as they finished, helping Bellamy lower Octavia back down to the table. “She should wake up soon. I’ll have some new clothes brought for her.”

“Thank you.”

“There’s a feast happening in the great hall this evening if she feels well enough to attend. In any case, two doors down this same hallway is a private room where she can rest more comfortably than here. I’ll station some guards in the lobby, if you need anything, just ask them and they’ll get it for you.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Simone left and Jackson followed after her, pausing at the door to turn back for a moment.

“Listen to her story. Don’t judge. Listen with your heart. Because _her_ heart is always at the centre of that story.”

“I will. Thank you, for everything you’ve done for her. Not just now. But for those six years in the bunker too.”

Jackson just nodded once, and closed the door behind him.

Left alone with his sister, Bellamy watched her sleeping, her expression peaceful despite everything. He couldn’t think of the last time he’d seen her at peace like this. Possibly not since their days on the Ark, back when they were just a brother and a sister and a life that had its challenges but not the violent challenges they’d had since landing on the ground.

He hoped they’d be able to have that again one day.

* * *

The first thing Octavia noticed as she woke was pain. Muted pain - they must have given her something for it - but pain nonetheless. It felt like her entire upper body was on fire.

Which, she surmised, it had been, in a sense.

The second thing she noticed was someone gripping her right hand tightly. She knew that hand. It could only be her brother.

Octavia forced her eyes open, blinking at the bright lights in the room, an unfamiliar one as it came into focus.

“Bellamy?” She asked.

“I’m here. I’m here, O.” He stood up so she would be able to see him better. “How do you feel?”

“The lights are too bright.”

“Okay, just… just give me a second.”

Bellamy let go of her hand for a few moments, going to find the light switches and he turned off the overhead lights, turning on some wall sconces that didn’t shine in her eyes.

“Better?”

“Mmmm.”

“If you want to rest somewhere more comfortable than an operating table, Simone said there’s a bedroom just down the hall.”

“Sure. Yeah.”

Bellamy helped her sit up, and as she did, she noticed the swathe of bandages covering almost all of her torso and arms, from neck to hips.

“What happened?” Octavia asked.

“Do you mean today in general, or here in this room, or…?”

“I know what happened earlier today. I know what everyone did to me. I know what _you_ did to me. I mean after. After you stopped. After you saved me.”

“I didn’t save you. You risked your life to show me what an idiot I was, all I did was stop before it was too late.”

“I forgive you.”

“I just don’t know how you can. After everything I did, I -”

“It’s not about you.” Octavia took his hand in both of hers. “I need you in my life, Bell. That means putting everything that’s happened between us in the past. Starting fresh. Starting over. We’re not kids anymore. There’s so much we don’t know about each other. But I want to know.”

“I do too. I need to know. I’m sorry I didn’t ask before. I’m sorry it had to take all of this to make me want to.”

“Let’s start with what happened after I passed out and finding that more comfortable bed.”

“Right. That. There are some new clothes for you here so you can get out of that bloody skirt. After you passed out, I brought you here to the hospital. Simone and Jackson patched you up. Both of them had words for me. Main ones being that I needed to listen to your story. Listen with my heart, as Jackson put it, because your heart is at the centre of that story.”

“It’s not an easy story for me to tell. There’s a reason I didn’t just sit you down in the bunker and lay it all out. Things were hard down there, Bell. Really hard.”

“I’m getting that. But Jackson said that if it hadn’t been for you, everyone would have died. So as hard as it might have been… it was worth it, right?”

“That’s a question I’ve asked myself every minute of every day for the past four years. Was saving all of those lives worth the fear, the hate, the pain? Was it worth my people hating and fearing me, if it saved their lives? Was it worth having _you_ hate me, if it meant that you didn’t open a tomb? Was it worth it? I don’t know how to answer that.”

“What happened four years ago?”

Octavia looked away, turning to get off the operating table on the opposite side from where Bellamy stood. Her body was still weak, however, and Bellamy rushed around to catch her before she collapsed.

“Take it easy.” Bellamy said, helping her stand and then slowly walk over to the clothes that a guard had dropped off.

Octavia sorted through the pile of clothes, choosing a simple sleeveless black shift dress. She divested herself of her white skirt, now mostly soaked in her blood, and reluctantly accepted Bellamy’s help in pulling the new dress over her head.

They left the operating room, making their way down the hall to the room that Simone had mentioned to Bellamy. Octavia settled into the bed, and Bellamy pulled up a chair to sit next to her. Neither of them spoke as Octavia looked down at her hands, wondering how to even begin explaining the Dark Year. She could feel Bellamy’s eyes on her, anxious to hear her story.

“Would I be able to get something to eat and drink?” Octavia asked quietly.

“Of course. I’ll go ask the guards.”

Octavia straightened up. “Guards?”

“Simone said she’d station some guards in the lobby, in case we needed anything. We’re not prisoners here.”

She relaxed. “Okay.”

Bellamy pressed a kiss to Octavia’s forehead and disappeared out the door.

Alone for the moment, Octavia released a long sigh. Nothing frightened her more than telling her brother the truth about the Dark Year. Choosing to submit herself for public torture was easier than that. The thought of her brother _knowing_ her darkest moments rather than just imagining what might have happened scared her like nothing else in the universe.

_Breathe._ She told herself. _Just breathe._ Octavia practiced several of the breathing exercises to calm herself that Niylah had taught her years ago, in those dark days of blood and flesh, when Niylah was a strong and steady presence by her side, preventing her from slipping completely into darkness.

Bellamy returned to the room awhile later, holding a tray filled with a number of small plates and glasses, a wide sampling of the delicacies that Sanctum had to offer. Octavia recognized some of them from what Simone had given her the previous evening, others were new.

“I’ve heard the people here mention that they have hunting parties, but they haven’t given us any meat.” Bellamy said with a confused frown. “I guess with our arrival they haven’t really had time to send any out.”

“I guess.” Octavia said, trying to control the tremble in her voice, but Bellamy was observant and took note of it, though chose not to comment further for the time being.

“This food’s going to take some getting used to.” Bellamy said, trying to make conversation as they ate. “Not like anything we had on Earth or in space.”

“Mmm.”

“We’ll be able to build a good life here. I have to believe that.”

“I hope so.”

“It’ll be a lot of hard work. Building our home. Of course, you won’t need to do anything until you’re healed up, I know you’re a hard worker, but you need to heal first. Let someone else do the heavy lifting.”

Octavia nodded, knowing Bellamy wanted to make lighter mealtime conversation, but also knowing that it wasn’t what either of them really wanted to talk about. That wasn’t the conversation they needed to have.

She put her plate aside, focusing on Bellamy, finally having an idea on how to gradually introduce the topic of cannibalism and the survival of the human race.

“Bell?”

“Yeah?”

“When you were on the Ring, how did you plan your lives? Your survival? Were you just worrying about yourselves, or did you think you might be the last of the human race?”

“We knew we weren’t the last of the human race. You had that handled.” Bellamy smiled at first, but the smile dropped off his face as he realized the implications. “I’m sorry. That was a huge responsibility to put on you.”

“Right. You didn’t have to worry about the survival of the human race. Me? I didn’t know if there was anyone else out there. I hoped that you’d survived, that you all made it, but - but I didn’t know anything for certain. So I did have to reckon with the idea that there in that bunker, we were the last of the human race. And I - I had to make sure we lived. By any means necessary. Every choice I made had to be like the Council on the Ark. I wish it could have been different, but - already a month and a half in, we knew we wouldn’t be getting out in five years, barring a miracle.”

“How did you know?”

“We heard banging up above. Abby and Kane tried to open the door, but couldn’t. There was too much rubble.”

“It was Clarke.”

“Yeah. But she couldn’t get to us, and we couldn’t get to her. So we knew getting out in five years - _if_ we ever got out - wasn’t something we could count on.” Octavia sighed. “I had to lead as if we were going to be trapped under the floor for the rest of our lives. And this bunker wasn’t stocked and prepared like Mount Weather was for long-term living, this was for a few years of survival, tops. Everyone went into a panic when Cooper revealed that the farm wouldn’t be sustainable much past that five year mark. We cut rations, but Cooper led a mutiny, sealing the doors to the farm with most of Skaikru inside, leaving the rest of us out to starve.”

“But Cooper was loyal to you.”

“Not at first. This was just the beginning. After she sealed the doors, the rest of the bunker descended into chaos and war. Jaha was also on the outside, and he had a plan on how to open the doors. But the only way he’d do it was if I took control. If I made the Grounders stand down and promise to only punish the guilty, rather than kill all of Skaikru like they would have wanted.”

“Sounds like Jaha.”

“He’d also been wounded by an Azgeda warrior. He was dying, and both of the doctors were on the wrong side of that door. If he died before opening the door -”

“So you did what had to be done.”

“Yeah. I fought my way through a hallway of Grounders to get to that door and make them stand down. Make them kneel to me. And so we solved that five-minute problem. The door was open, and most people lived, for the time being. But that’s when I started the arena - a way to punish the guilty, but also allow some mercy. Cooper was the survivor of the first fight. I know it looked awful, but if you look at the other punishments we’ve seen - floating, death by a thousand cuts, just to name a few - how was this any worse? It’s bloody, but it gave someone a chance to survive rather than certain death. Isn’t that preferable to just killing everyone who breaks a law?”

“Looking at it like that, yes. You’re right. I never thought about it like that.”

“It’s the best I could do for our continued survival. I wanted to save as many people as I could, but the truth was - there were too many people. Too many people if we had to survive past five years. I’d never authorize something like a Culling. Never the innocent. Only the guilty.” Octavia looked down at her hands. “And we got by like that for two years. It worked. Until it didn’t.”

“For two years. So what happened four years ago -”

“Yeah. That brings us to the same moment.”

“O, what happened four years ago?”

“Did you ever have a plan for what you’d do on the Ring if the algae farm failed?”

“No. It sucked, but we survived off it for six years. Didn’t have to consider other scenarios.”

“We didn’t have a plan either if the hydrofarm failed.” Octavia looked up at him, green eyes meeting brown as she held his gaze intently. “But then it did. Not - not all of it. Just a fungus in our protein crop. But that - you can’t live without protein. And it would be a year until Cooper could regrow new plants from healthy seed. So there was one year where we only had one potential source for protein.”

Bellamy thought for awhile. “The fighting pits.”

“Yeah.”

“So that’s the secret that no one would talk about.”

“Not exactly. There’s more to it than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“A lot of people didn’t want to do it. Kane chief among them. I let it go for awhile, but Abby - Abby said that couldn’t happen. That if people starved to death, there wouldn’t be enough meat on their bones to be able to feed the rest of us. And - and she told me about the Blight generation on the Ark. Where the crops failed, and people had a choice as to whether to eat human flesh or not. And the guilt of that choice destroyed them as they had to watch the others die.”

“You had to take away the choice. To spare them that guilt.”

Octavia nodded, trying to fight back tears, unsuccessful as that mission was. Bellamy reached out and wiped some of her tears away.

“How many people had to die?”

“Three. Just three. It seems like such a small number, but - there was no fight in the pit, just all of us in the cafeteria, and me holding a gun to their heads begging them to eat.” Octavia started sobbing like she had that day, and Bellamy moved onto the bed to cradle her to his chest. “I didn’t want any of it. But I had to save my people.”

“Shhhhh.” Bellamy whispered, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Nothing about any of that was okay.”

“Do you remember Mount Weather?”

“Of course.”

“Before Clarke and I pulled the lever, Dante, the president, told us something. It had been his idea to make the deal with the Grounders. That Mount Weather would leave them alone, and in return they’d break the alliance with us. Our bone marrow, our lives, would be the price for both of their freedom. Dante made that deal to save his people. I’ll never forget what he said to us - ‘Deliverance comes at a cost. I bear it, so they don’t have to.’ Clarke said the same thing to me at the gates of Camp Jaha before she left, how she would bear the cost of what we did to save our people.

“But what she said didn’t matter. I still helped kill over 300 people, including kids, including people who helped us, people who had trusted me to find a solution where we could all live. I was so angry that she left, it didn’t feel like she was bearing anything and that she’d left it all to me. Because I was the one who had to live with it. I was the one who had to be there every day, seeing the faces of the people we’d saved, remembering what the cost of that had been. I was the one who had to help clean up Mount Weather, burn the bodies of the dead, the people we’d killed - she wasn’t there for any of that. So trust me, O - I understand. I know what that feels like.”

“How did you do it?”

“Badly. You know that. You know what happened next. But then after all of the chaos, I had six years of peace. And I was able to find peace within myself too. I didn’t forget what I’d done, but I was able to live with myself again. But when we got to the ground, I didn’t want to see that you hadn’t had six years of peace. That you hadn’t had the same life we did on the Ring. But now you can. Now _we_ can. I can help you find that peace.”

“I’m a mess, Bell.” Octavia said, sitting up and wiping away her tears. “Just look at me.”

“I am. I’m looking at my strong and brave and selfless sister. My sister who has been through so much. Who has borne so much. My sister who deserves to be able to live in peace.”

“I don’t even know what peace looks like anymore.”

“Like this. A brother and a sister sitting in a room. Not worrying about survival or war or if we’ll even be able to breathe tomorrow. Knowing that tomorrow we’ll still have food and drink and air. It’s not a bad life.”

“It’s not. But I don’t know who I am without my sword.”

“We’ll figure that out.”

“How?”

“Time. Just take it day by day. And right now your days involve healing. Simone mentioned there’s a feast tonight, if you’re up to it. And if not, we can stay here.”

“I think I would like to see that.”

“The feast?”

“Yeah. I’m not sure how long I’ll want to stay, but - seeing it, seeing that people can be happy and that there’s a world of plenty, I want to see it.”

“I’ll ask the guards what time. You should get some rest until then.”

“Will you come back?”

“If you want me here, I’ll be here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go! Bellamy does certainly still have penance to make to Octavia, but that's a long long process over a long period of time that can't be covered in the space of this fic. But he's working on it. And I have to hope that he will in canon as well, though I don't know if those hopes will be realized :(


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confrontation, a revelation, and the promise of peace.

A knock came on the door of Octavia’s room a few hours later, rousing both Octavia and Bellamy. After not sleeping the previous night, Bellamy had also been overwhelmed with exhaustion. He stood up from his chair and went over to the door.

“Yeah?”

“You’d asked to be notified when it was almost time for the feast to start. That would be now.” The guard said.

“Thank you. We’ll be along shortly.” Bellamy closed the door and returned to the side of Octavia’s bed. “Still feel up to it?”

“For a bit at least.” Octavia pushed herself to her feet, and while she wavered a bit, her feet stayed firm. “Just… stay close.”

“Do you want some more pain medication? I can send one of the guards to get Jackson so he can get you the right stuff.”

“No, I’ll be okay.”

Bellamy stayed close to her and they headed out from the room. Octavia waved away offers of assistance from the guards, and they emerged from the hospital to find a crowd of people - all Sanctum residents, Octavia noted - waiting for them, arms full of flowers.

A little girl stepped out from the crowd, moving forwards to address Octavia. She took in all of Octavia’s bandages with wide eyes.

“Are you the girl from Earth that everyone’s talking about? The girl who saved her people?”

“I… I guess I am.”

“This is for you.” The girl held out a crown made of flowers, and Bellamy helped Octavia crouch down so the girl could put it on her head.

“Thank you.” Octavia smiled. “What’s it for?”

“You were very brave. You taught your people how to be better. And now life will be good. You’ll see. The Primes will protect you.” The little girl said solemnly.

The others came forward too, handing over their flowers to Octavia, so many that she couldn’t hold all of them herself, and had to pass them along to Bellamy too. They just kept coming and coming, until Simone rushed up, looking a bit harried.

“Thank you all for coming to see Octavia.” Simone addressed the crowd. “But if you could take your flowers to the great hall, then we’ll all be able to enjoy them there, instead of making Octavia carry them when she’s already done so much today.”

The Sanctum residents reclaimed their flowers and began to file away towards the great hall, and Simone, Octavia and Bellamy all breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry.” Simone whispered to Octavia. “I know you would’ve rather not had a big production of things, and we’ve kept everything low-key at the feast, but I didn’t anticipate that the people would then come find you themselves.”

“What happened today was for my people, but why does it mean so much for yours?” Octavia asked.

“Our world may be a peaceful one, but we are still familiar with the notions of bravery and sacrifice. But there are not many opportunities to witness it, so when we do, it is special. You’re special, for risking everything to bring your people to the light. You wanted to be reborn. This is that moment. Embrace it, and start a new life.”

Octavia nodded. _“Kom folau, ai na gyon op.”_ She whispered to herself.

“From the ashes I will rise.” Bellamy translated for Simone. “Trig. The language we learned on Earth.”

“I know it.” Simone said. “The phoenix metaphor is appropriate. You are all born again from the ashes today, taking a new vow of peace. I hope that you are ready to live it as your sister is.”

“I am. Thank you. I - we - we won’t dishonour that. I may have been the last to see the light, but I will not forget what Octavia went through to make that happen. I will honour peace.”

“Good. Now, let’s get to that feast.”

* * *

The feast was in full swing when Octavia, Bellamy and Simone arrived, taking places at the head table with a minimum of fanfare. They ate and ate until they couldn’t eat anymore. As the eating ended, the lights dimmed, the tables were whisked aside and music started up. Sanctum residents took to the dance floor immediately, but the survivors from Earth hung back, a bit wary of this additional extravagance that they weren’t all that familiar with. The night had already been much more than they’d ever known.

“How are you feeling?” Bellamy asked Octavia.

“Emotionally or physically?”

“Either. Both.”

“Tired. But hopeful. In body and mind. It’s been a long time since I’ve had hope.”

“It might take some time to get used to it. I know our first days and weeks on the Ring, I had a hard time believing it too. We all had nightmares of everything we’d been through.”

“All of you?”

“All of us. Monty and Harper still had nightmares about Mount Weather on a regular basis. Raven about the City of Light. Murphy never talked about his, but I know he had them too. Emori and Echo did about their childhoods. Me… most of them were about losing people. Mom. Gina. Clarke. You. I’d just lose you over and over again, in ways I did before and in ways I didn’t.”

“And now?”

“Not as often. From time to time one pops up, but not nearly as often as they used to. It takes time, O. But you have that now. You can find that peace.”

“Like hell she can.” Came Abby’s voice.

Octavia and Bellamy turned to face her, standing a few paces away and shaking with fury. The atmosphere felt intimately familiar to Octavia - hadn’t she been on the other side of it a mere few days earlier? She knew what was coming. But she also knew she needed to take a different approach than either of them had then.

“How _dare_ you.” Abby fumed. “How dare you sit here and be happy when Marcus is still a hair’s breadth away from dying up there. Because of _you.”_

“I didn’t stab him.” Octavia said calmly, her voice even, but her hand was clutching Bellamy’s tightly. “I don’t know who did, but it wasn’t me. I helped you bring him to the ship to give him a chance to survive. I could have left you both to die for what you did to me. What you did to our people. But I didn’t. I gave you both a second chance to make things right. Neither of you chose to take it. Instead he chose to embrace his self-righteousness, even if it would kill him. That was his choice.”

“You antagonized him.”

“I spoke the truth. If you find the truth uncomfortable, you should think about why that is. I wanted something so simple, you know that? Just an acknowledgment. Just for both of you to admit the parts you played in the tragedy of our people. Kane was right about one thing - that I was lost. Lost in a well of pain and grief and anger because of all of it. Because of what you did. I wanted to die, you know that? I know you understand that feeling, because I know you’ve been there too. But you’ve always had someone who fought for you anyway. I couldn’t see my way out of it until two strangers saw my pain for what it was and gave me a chance.” Octavia looked at Simone and smiled. “And because of the kindness of strangers, I chose to live. I chose to end this cycle of violence. I bled for you, for _all_ of our people today, to give us all the opportunity to build a new life in this world. I did that to put an end to the suffering. An end to the fighting. An end to the war. So that we could have peace.”

“Suddenly you’re an expert on peace.” Abby sneered.

“I’m not. I don’t even remember what peace looks like, if I ever did in the first place. But I want to learn, because that’s what I fought for. That’s what I bled for. That’s why I bore all of our sins for years. Alone. Because you asked that of me for the sake of our people, and I did it. So that one day we could have peace and plenty. That day is now. Most of our people aren’t here to see it, but we are. We are here. And we must honour them by living and doing our best to pursue that dream that we fought for for so long.”

Abby screamed like she had that morning during the whipping, and lunged at Octavia, but Simone and Bellamy were there to wrestle her back until the guards arrived and seized her.

“Where’s your pilot?” Simone asked. “Have her take Abby back up to your ship immediately. We don’t want her here in Sanctum. You can have her back when you’ve got your own home set up. But she is not welcome here.”

Bellamy went to seek out Raven, the guards hauling Abby off after him. Simone took a few deep breaths and sat down again.

“I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything.” Octavia said.

“I know, but… I’m sorry for everything she did. How she didn’t stand by you when she should have. How if she had, both of you might have been in a better place when the bunker opened.”

“Too late for that. All we can do is move forward. I was even willing to give her that chance now, but…”

“People make their own choices. She was willing to forget and move forward as long as she could still put her sins on you and keep you locked away, keep those sins of hers locked away. That’s what I saw in those memories after you woke up from cryosleep. When she couldn’t do that anymore, when her lover couldn’t do it either… when she had to stare them in the face again… this morning should have been a wakeup call for her like it was for the rest of your people, but it seems to have had the opposite effect on her. So for the sake of your well-being, she needs to go for now.”

Just as Simone finished speaking, Clarke stormed over.

“You’re sending my mother back to the ship?” She asked of Simone.

“Yes. Her presence here is interfering with the peace we’ve been promised. You stopped her yourself this morning when she was out of control. And just now she tried to attack Octavia again. You may bring her back to the ground when your home is ready, but while you live here with us, she is not welcome.”

Clarke sighed and dropped into Bellamy’s chair. “Fair enough. I’m sorry, Octavia.”

“It wasn’t you. It isn’t your fault.”

“How can you be so calm after everything that happened today?” Clarke asked.

“Maybe it is because of what’s happened today that I’m so calm.” Octavia responded. “I want an end to the violence, Clarke. I want it to be over. I did what I did today so that it would be over for good.”

“I’m proud of you. I’m not proud of me because it took me so long to see it, but I am proud of you.”

“I forgive you.”

“And my mother?”

“I’m learning how to live in peace and how to do better. I’m not a saint.” Octavia sighed. “I wish I could, Clarke. But I only have so much room in my heart for forgiveness today, and I’m not ready to give it to someone who still wants me to suffer.”

“Maybe being back up there with nothing to do but stare at Kane’s cryopod will give her the time and catalyst she needs to want to do better.”

“We can hope so. I do want peace for her too. I hope you believe me.”

“I do.”

The two of them sat in silence for awhile, watching people on the dance floor. A number of the Earth survivors were also out there now, including a giggling Emori trying to get Murphy to move with her, and Madi trying to teach Echo some dance steps in one corner while Gaia looked on with half-amusement and half-disapproval.

Clarke stood up, giving Octavia a small smile. “Might be time for Madi’s bedtime soon. It’s getting late.”

“Go on. I should probably get some rest myself.”

“Do you want me to help you get back to the hospital?”

“It’s okay. I’ll wait for Bellamy to get back.”

Clarke nodded. “Sleep tight.”

“You too.”

Clarke headed off to get Madi, and Octavia returned her attention to the dance floor, watching the revelry. Part of her itched to go out there herself, and spin around in circles like she had that fateful day at the Unity Day Masquerade where she’d been discovered. The more grounded part of her mind reminded her that would be a bad idea in her current condition, where spinning like that would more likely lead to falling and that would aggravate all of her injuries.

Peace willing, there would be more opportunities for joy and dancing in her future. She was willing to wait.

Some time later, just as she was about to ask Simone to take her back to the hospital instead, too tired to wait for Bellamy, Octavia saw him come back through the doors, Raven by his side. Trailing them, to Octavia’s surprise, was Niylah, her Wonkru battle gear starkly out of context in the great hall. Raven separated off from them, going to join Echo and Emori at a table, and Niylah followed Bellamy in Octavia’s direction.

“I know we said no more people from your ship, but I’ll let this one slide.” Simone said, watching them too. “Seems more than fair to trade an enemy for an ally.”

“Niylah’s been good to me. Even if she hasn’t truly understood me.”

“Give her that chance now.” Simone said. “Now that you’ve emerged from your pain, you should see that she wants to.”

“I know you’ve seen my memories, but how could you know that?”

“I saw the way she looked at you. She’s in love with you. Has been for awhile, I think.”

“How could she love _that_ version of me?”

“The same way I understood _that_ version of you. She may not have known how to help you then, but she did what she could. You have an ally in her, but you could also have much more. If you wanted it.”

“It’s been a long day. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that sort of a conversation right now.”

“Take your time. No need to rush into anything.”

Bellamy and Niylah made it to the head table, and Niylah’s healer eyes took stock of all of Octavia’s injuries with a sad look.

“Niylah, this is Simone Lightbourne, one of the Primes, the leaders here.” Bellamy explained. “I’m sorry, I know you said no more people from our ship, but after she heard what happened to Octavia, there was nothing I could do to make her stay.”

“That’s okay, Bellamy. I asked you to return one of your people to the ship, it is fair to bring someone else to replace them.” Simone stood up. “Welcome to Sanctum, Niylah. Please, feel free to take my seat.”

Simone gave Octavia a look, and disappeared into the crowd.

Niylah looked after her for a moment, and then sat down in the seat next to Octavia, returning her gaze to her.

“You okay?” Niylah asked. “Bellamy told me everything that happened.”

“I’m getting there.” Octavia gave her a half-smile. “Thank you, by the way.”

Niylah raised an eyebrow. “For?”

“For looking out for me when no one else was. Not even me.”

“And then you stowed away on the transport ship and got yourself into all this trouble.” Niylah said disapprovingly.

“I know I didn’t make it easy.” Octavia chuckled. “But it has been for the best. Really. I’m ready to let go of the pain now in a way I wasn’t before.”

“No more punching metal walls?”

“No more punching metal walls.”

“Good.” Niylah reached out a tentative hand, taking Octavia’s, running her thumb over Octavia’s bruised knuckles. “I hope you’re taking healing seriously now.”

“I am. And I have an army of people telling me to take it easy.” Octavia looked over her shoulder at Bellamy. “Most of all my brother.”

“Do you want to head back to the hospital?” Bellamy asked. “I can take you back if you’re tired.”

“It’s okay. You go. Enjoy the party. There’s something I have to do.”

Bellamy caught the drift of what Octavia was insinuating, and nodded. He stood, kissing Octavia’s forehead, and headed off in the direction of Echo, Emori and Raven.

Niylah looked at her curiously, but Octavia didn’t say anything just yet, she just stared at their joined hands, trying to figure out how to say what she needed to without sounding too silly. But this was Niylah, after the seriousness of the past six years, perhaps sounding a bit silly was exactly what they needed.

“You might laugh.” Octavia finally said.

“Try me.”

“You know how I told you about the day I was arrested on the Ark?”

“Yes. You were at a dance much like this one.”

“Before I got arrested, I felt so _free._ It was the first time I had ever felt that way. So much time has passed since then, so much has happened… but I am starting to feel that same sense of freedom again.”

“Is this your long-winded way of asking me if I want to dance?” Niylah’s raised eyebrow was back.

“Nothing too wild, but… yes, if you want to.”

“Of course I do.”

Niylah helped Octavia stand, and they made their way to a quiet corner of the dance floor, just as the song changed to a softer and slower melody. Niylah settled her hands gently on Octavia’s lower back, bandages fewer and farther between there. Octavia did the same, the position easiest for her sore arms, their bodies pressed together gently.

They swayed together, barely moving at first, but then Niylah began to turn them slowly, _ever so slowly,_ in a circle. Octavia didn’t remember if she’d told Niylah the spinning around in circles part of the story, but she must have. Niylah must have known. Must have remembered that story from the many years ago she must have told it. Must have _cared_ enough to remember it.

And with the darkness beginning to recede from her mind, the burden of survival no longer resting on her shoulders… Octavia could see it now. Caring. Love. _Peace._ The world was open to all sorts of new possibilities.

All she had to do was take them.

* * *

The Earth survivors broke ground on their new home within the week, Bellamy and Clarke having selected a location just a few miles off from Sanctum, near the lake they’d seen on their arrival. Octavia had wanted to start work with the rest of them, but doctors’ orders from both Jackson and Simone kept her in the hospital for another few weeks. Niylah saw to it that their orders were enforced. Healing was a business they took seriously.

Three weeks after arriving on the moon, Simone finally released Octavia to visit the building site, under further orders to _not overstrain yourself._ Her back was mostly healed, most of the cuts and burns along her arms and shoulders were too. Only the burn from the poker in the middle of Octavia’s belly had required regular follow-up care, and Bellamy insisted on being there for each of those appointments, even when Octavia told him not to torture himself with guilt.

Six weeks after arrival, they were given permission to bring the rest of their people down from the ship to be settled directly into the new site, construction at a stage where basic shelter and necessities were available as building continued, now at a faster pace with more workers. Wonkru looked at Octavia with both curiosity and apprehension, the scars on her arms and upper back clearly visible as she worked with the rest of them. Octavia noted that Abby hadn’t yet returned to the ground, despite the offer being open. Clarke mentioned something about Abby not wanting to leave Kane, but hadn’t been able to offer any further insight into her mother’s mental state.

Ten weeks after the transport first landed on the moon, Diyoza strolled out of the forest with a newborn baby Hope on one arm and a gun in the other hand. Octavia was sure Diyoza had chosen her point of arrival carefully, a place near a guard post manned by former Eligius prisoners and Octavia’s work crew not far off. Octavia listened to her tell a wild story that she only half-believed before taking her through the building site to the mostly-finished central complex, where they met Jackson in the medical center. Diyoza also observed her scars and changed demeanour with a detached sort of interest, and Octavia felt her eyes on her as she gave Niylah a kiss before returning outside to get back to work.

Twenty-four weeks after they’d woken up from cryosleep to a new world in front of them, Octavia sat on the rocky beach by the lake enjoying the feel of the suns on her face. Niylah sat on one side of her, bouncing Hope in her lap as Diyoza took a nap a bit further along down the beach. On Octavia’s other side, Bellamy wrote in a notebook of newly pressed paper, committing to page the stories of old that he and Octavia had grown up on.

Their world was so different now from what it had once been, now a world where they grew bountiful crops, made paper and remembered stories, instead of training for battle and struggling to eat even one meal a day. A world where they still wore the scars of the past, but they faded with each passing day. A world where there was love and light and healing, rather than pain and darkness and suffering.

A world where peace was, finally, real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at the end of this tale... it's been a wild journey of a fix-it/canon-divergent story, I hope you've found it interesting too! <3


End file.
